2017 Audi R8 V10 Plus vs. 2016 McLaren 570S, 2017 Porsche 911 Turbo S

There is no acceptable way to begin a story about 500-plus-horsepower, $200,000 sports cars and include in the first sentence a reference to that class of quasi-­station-wagon family movers known as crossovers.

But hang on. As in the pseudo-off-roader market, sports cars now populate so many strata of the market that they require increasingly specific monikers and modifiers to sort them all out. Used to be, you had your sports cars and your ­regular cars. Then came the supercars, those increasingly outrageous-looking, typically mid-engined wedge- or arrow-shaped things. But why stop there? Why not create something straight out of the world of aerospace and require that we add an even more breathless label? Thus was born the hypercar. And so, in between the everyman Mazda MX-5 Miata and the racetrack-bound $3 million Ferrari FXX K, carmakers have rushed to fill every price and performance gap in the fun-car market.

Invading NASCAR country in an alien trio of candy-colored supercars. Everyone knew what the Porsche was. Only one man recognized the Vector.

Marc UrbanoCar and Driver

About three-quarters up the performance scale sits one of the most competitive sectors: the roughly $200,000 class we're now referring to as “junior supercars.” For that not-inconsiderable amount, a buyer can expect a dash, or more, of carbon fiber, 550 horsepower or more, an engine typically mounted behind the occupants, a zero-to-60-mph time of less than three seconds, a top speed just above 200 mph, and a dual-clutch automatic gearbox. And these little siblings to the Ferrari 488GTB and McLaren 650S represent a market bull's-eye in that they are within reach of the merely very rich but offer the crowd-wowing looks and perform­ance close to the likes of Bugatti, the Ferrari LaFerrari, and the McLaren P1 for about a tenth of the price.

First in the fight is the second-generation Audi R8. Subtly redesigned and stripped of its optional manual transmission, the R8 is the sister car to the one-step-up Lamborghini Huracán, with which it shares much of its carbon-and-aluminum structure, all-wheel-drive system, and high-revving midships-mounted V-10. Our test car wears the Plus suffix, meaning its 5.2-liter V-10 pumps out 610 horsepower (70 more than the standard R8 V-10) and it's lashed with a hefty dose of carbon molecules, including a fixed carbon-fiber rear wing, various carbon accents, and carbon-ceramic brake rotors. At a base price of $192,450 (including a $1300 gas-guzzler tax), the R8 V-10 Plus represents a roughly $40,000 cost savings compared with the Huracán LP610-4. Audi plumped our test vehicle's price to $202,750 with the addition of an upgraded Bang & Olufsen audio system ($1900), full-leather interior with contrasting stitching on the 18-way adjustable power seats ($5000), and 20-inch wheels ($1500), along with a couple other optional doodads.

The R8 may constitute a value compared with the Huracán, but Porsche’s freshly tweaked 911 Turbo S undercuts the Audi's as-tested price by some $10,000, thanks to its lower starting point and an option load that's unusually light by Porsche stand­ards. The updates for this so-called 991.2 version of the Turbo S are mostly detail changes, although it carries an additional 20 horsepower versus the last Turbo S, thanks to larger turbocharger impellers and reworked intake ports. The 911 Turbo S represents a different approach to the $200,000 sports-car conundrum, in that it's the highest expression of road-focused performance for its model line—a line that includes a base model roughly $100,000 less expensive. It also carries two vestigial rear seats and looks, well, decidedly large and pedestrian in this company.

The raptor-beaked McLaren 570S is proof of the benefits of trickle-down technology. This newest, and least expensive, McLaren nabs a version of the carbon-fiber tub and the 3.8-liter twin-turbo V-8 that form the basis of the company's more expensive offerings, the 650S and P1. Created to steal some money from the Porsche Turbo franchise, the 570S loses the trick hydraulic suspension arrangement and active aerodynamics of its bigger brothers to get the base price down to a class-competitive $187,400. Our test vehicle was equipped with all manner of options, bringing the total to a hefty $219,770. While it may be a direct shot at Porsche, with a similar engine displacement and forced-induction arrangement, the McLaren presents a vastly different visage. Even as its engine pumps out the least amount of horsepower (a still quite ample 562), its highly expressive design and its flip-up, not-quite-Lambo doors invariably convince standers-by that it must be in a different league than our other two ­competitors. The numbers say otherwise.

The new Acura NSX also would fit nicely into this group, even with its hybrid powertrain. But alas, when we asked for one, Acura demurred, promising a test car later in the year.

So we terrorized the southeastern United States with these three candy-colored babies. We started by track-testing the junior supercars in Laurens, South Carolina, at Michelin's expansive proving grounds. We then ambled north to the Blue Ridge Mountains where we gave the tires (all Pirellis) a comprehensive exfoliation on the region's sublime mountain roads. Remarkably, not one of us was arrested. None of us purchased a coonskin cap in our home base of Boone, North Carolina. And all the cars remained completely operational at all times. So, it was something like a crossover comparison test, only with 100 percent more adrenaline-drenched joy.

3rd Place:Audi R8 V10 Plus

It was on the freeway slog up from South Carolina to the Blue Ridge Mountains that the new-for-2017 Audi R8 V10 Plus first surprised us. Humming along at the clip of men who will soon need dinner, we noticed, well, that we were not uncomfortable. The absence of vice is always harder to discern than the presence of virtue. With its various carbon-fiber body bits, big rear diffuser, and 610-hp V10, we had reason to believe that the R8 would be a loud, taxing taxi. Instead, it's tremendously comfortable. Its seats are soft. Its steering is light. And its nonadjustable dampers soaked up high-­frequency chop as well as they eased the car over undulations. My goodness, we thought: Audi has made this low-slung machine into the everyday supercar. The only sensations upsetting the calm were the roar of fat performance tires over gritty concrete (the others sang just as loudly) and the high-speed wind noise coming from just behind our left ear as the fake scoop behind the side windows grabbed air for no good reason.

We shouldn't have been surprised by the R8's relative comfort. In addition to its novel, cliché-free exterior design, the first-generation R8 was notable for its easy livability. If the R8 V10 Plus could lay waste to back roads and track and still be a comfortable ride to dinner, we might as well call off the rest of the comparison test and go on a two-day moonshine bender. Alas, it was not to be. While trying to turn a supercar into an everyday Audi, the company sacrificed what we consider to be the primary objective of a supercar, junior or otherwise: to drive as if it has a telepathic connection to your id. Despite carrying a stiffer suspension setup than the standard R8's, the Plus nonetheless allows too much body movement in high-speed transitions. It can feel unsettled. It feels larger than its dimensions suggest. Some of the blame has to go to the variable-ratio steering system, which is feather light and utterly numb. You'll know that the front end has lost grip on corner entry not because you feel it through the steering wheel, but because you see the car start pushing off your intended line.

After one blast down the gorgeous bobsled course of a road known as U.S. Route 221 near Linville, North Carolina, tech director Eric Tingwall remarked: “I'm far less confident driving this than the other two cars. Funny to be driving a 600-plus- horsepower car, look in the rearview mirror, and know you're holding up traffic.” Okay, so that traffic consisted of a 911 Turbo S and a McLaren, but still. Dial back the aggression, and the R8 becomes pleasant again. But who wants to do that?

It's a shame that the R8 doesn't acquit itself better in hard driving because the powertrain is almost entirely beautiful. It's certainly lovely to look at, mounted like the jewel it is under the rear glass. Its eagerness to rev past 8000 rpm is a thing of rarity. And the sound it makes, good Lord Almighty, that noise is gorgeous. It is easily the best-sounding thing in this comparo, possibly one of the best-sounding things, period. There's Exile on Main Street, a baby's laugh, and meat sizzling over a flame, but not much else can compare. Full-throttle upshifts are quick and smooth and make us emit an unintentional “Ooh!” as if anyone can hear. We found ourselves making entirely unnecessary shifts just to activate the RrrrrBRAP­rrrrrrBRAPrrrrrBRAPrrrr noisemaker. Our only quibble with the Audi's powertrain is the seven-speed dual-clutch transmission's tendency to drop up to five gears at a time (seventh to second, anyone?) at the stab of the throttle. The sudden switch snaps your head forward, the engine roaring for a second, and then it upshifts almost immediately, but not before you think: “Well, now that really was unnecessary shifting.”

Oddly, the carbon-­fiber-bedecked R8 is the most comfortable-riding car of the group. Top left: These fake air intakes serve only to generate wind noise.

Marc UrbanoCar and Driver

Don't take our criticisms to mean that the R8 is unimpressive. This is a car capable of launching itself to 60 mph in less than three seconds and on through the quarter-mile in 10.9 at 129 mph. It's mighty quick, even if it weighs 121 pounds more than the Porsche and a whopping 495 pounds more than the McLaren. However, though it wore nearly identically sized Pirelli P Zero tires as the Porsche, the Audi couldn't match its countryman's skidpad, braking, or slalom performances.

We wish, too, that Audi had taken more chances with the ex­teri­or design of the new car. It comes off as a first-generation R8 made less distinctive. But its engine reminds us why we still like naturally aspirated powerplants in sports cars, even if this one can't match the off-corner grunt of its turbocharged competitors, and even if it returns the test's worst fuel economy. You care about your junior supercar's fuel economy, right?

2nd Place:McLaren 570S

The McLaren has sport modes for both its chassis and its powertrain, but really, the 570S is itself a sport mode. It is the supercar of junior supercars. The moment you fire up the 3.8-liter twin-turbo V-8, it's spitting mad. Through the $3860 optional sport exhaust blasts a positively antisocial level of auditory aggression. It produces 97 dBA at full whack. Unless their estates are of considerable acreage, 570S owners are not going to be popular with their neighbors.

Our test car also carried optional one-piece racing seats ($5960) covered in that raciest of upholstery, synthetic suede. The seats might satisfy some Walter Mitty racer fantasies, but they were uncomfortable for the three drivers we had on the comparo, one of whom is claiming permanent right-hip damage from the unforgiving shells. They further complicate getting into the McLaren, an already-wrenching task. You will not look suave as you crack your noggin on the upraised door, then try to step over the tall, wide carbon-fiber fortress wall, drop your butt into a narrow bucket, and fold your second leg into the car (the suede grabbing your pants and twisting them uncomfortably around your business). Once inside, the shell seat forces your knees together. The pedal box, made tight by the intruding wheel well, forces your feet together. It must be said that some men prefer a wider stance.

A grand-touring automobile this is not. When McLaren said it was going after the Porsche Turbo, it did not mean that it would build a Porsche Turbo facsimile with a McLaren badge. Rather, it built a McLaren that hits similar performance and price ­targets to the Porsche Turbo. The 570S doesn't want to trundle around town, where its turbos lag. It doesn't want to cross continents on expressways, where it will drone on constantly. It wants only to go fast, to be shot at corner apexes and fired out the other side by enormous boost. It wants to be loud and brash and playful. Even its digital tachometer needle trembles nervously, and its HVAC system's airflow pictogram shows a person wearing a full-face racing helmet. He has no arms, but he has a helmet.

If the above makes it seem as if we don't like the 570S, then we have unintentionally misled you. We mostly love the 570S. Its ­flavor is distinct and powerful. Out on the back roads, the McLaren dances around on its relatively narrow tires. Its steering wheel is alive with enough feedback to keep tabs on the goings-on down at those tires. Its highly boosted 562-hp V-8, which can feel pretty laggy around town, comes alive on boost above 4000 rpm in the same heady, intoxicating way that a roller-coaster car hangs for a second on the first hill until all the cars crest the top and then off you go. Beyond the huge canopy windshield you see no hood, so steeply does the short little beak drop away. It feels as if your body is being hurled down the road more than it feels as if you're piloting a car.

Of the three assembled, the 570S garnered by far the most attention, even if few had any clue what it might be. One man thought it could be a Vector, which is one of the weirder things a human has said to us in a while.

The 570S's interior is as clearly focused as the car's character. There is nothing extraneous inside. There's just a clear and easy-to-read digital instrument cluster and a relatively small, vertically oriented infotainment screen, and that's about it. “What else does a supercar need?” the 570S quietly asks. And the answer is nothing at all. Our test car's interior was also lined with slightly fuzzy, soft-to-the-touch synthetic suede (a $2990 option) that made driving the car feel like wearing a bathrobe. But we don't dislike that, either.

Our scoring system rewards overall excellence, a balance of ­virtues, so the 570S finished second behind the Porsche Turbo S. But have a look at the Fun To Drive category on the results chart.

1st Place:Porsche 911 Turbo S

In the category of Outstanding Achievement in the Production of a Junior Supercar, the Porsche 911 Turbo S is the runaway winner.

Line up these three rides, and the Turbo stands tall and upright, looking, at least in this company, like just a regular coupe. It doesn't have any faux racing addenda; no gleaming, lacquered carbon-fiber bodywork; no rear aerodynamic diffuser; no silly doors. And it speaks softly, with none of the sturm und drang of the other two. Even the turbos are demure. The McLaren is forever hissing and raging. But it's easy to miss the subtle breaths of the Porsche's ­turbos—in the same way you never hear the quick inhalations that people tuck between words when they speak, unless you listen for them specifically.

Like its exterior, the Turbo S's interior looks basically like any old 911’s. But the car is capable of gut-wrenching, supercar-humiliating performance.

Marc UrbanoCar and Driver

But the Turbo S carries a very large stick with which to beat those who underestimate it. It accelerates to 60 mph in a mind-scrambling 2.6 seconds, a mere tenth off the Bugatti Veyron's time, and a few tenths quicker than the other cars in this test. It carries its acceleration advantage through the quarter-mile, completing it in 10.6 seconds at 131 mph. This in a car that, at least on paper, has the worst power-to-weight ratio. Like the other vehicles in this test, the Turbo S wears carbon-ceramic brakes (standard on the Turbo S), but it stops from 70 mph in a remarkable 139 feet, five feet shorter than the lighter 570S that came with sticky Pirelli P Zero Corsa tires. The Turbo S stops 14 feet shorter than the R8.

Oh, and the Porsche swept the objective handling tests, too, beating its rivals by a large margin in the slalom and a smaller one on the skidpad. And you can turn on the Porsche's ventilated front seats, should all of this heated action warm you too much.

More remarkable than mere numbers, though, is the Porsche's demeanor. If a car could be said to be stoic, this one would be. It is utterly unflappable. Treat it with a light touch or a clumsy ham-fist, and it will always respond in a similarly controlled fashion. It makes its drivers look more skilled than they are. When we set out for our runs down the mountain roads, the Porsche typically led our little cara­van. That way we knew the Turbo S wouldn't get held up. Its wide tires, all-wheel drive, and four-wheel steering made child's play of fast driving. And the twin-turbo 3.8-liter flat-six delivers power so smoothly and from such low rpm that the car positively explodes out of corners. Accurate steering and a firm, progressive brake pedal are good enough that you frankly never take note of them.

But after a long, tiring day, the Porsche was also the car we invariably chose to drive to the store for supplies. The Porsche's perfectly behaved seven-speed dual clutch was as imperceptible puttering around town as it was quick and precise on curvy-road runs. We didn't once take the McLaren on a nighttime errand.

The Turbo S will surely be accused of being soulless and inert. We might have leveled that accusation once or twice ourselves. There is a sense that the car is doing much to drive itself without your commanding it to do so. After all, you never asked for its rear wheels to turn or for a certain amount of torque to flow to the front wheels instead of the back. But the Turbo S does have character. It just doesn't have any glaring faults or lapses or flash­iness, things that are sometimes misinterpreted as ­character.

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